Well, doesn't time fly when your having fun. Here we are, 52 weeks since I started this little adventure into blogging and I'm still going strong. When I started all those weeks ago I never really intended this to be a weekly blog, more of an occasional glimpse into my life and the things I get up too. As with many things though, it's evolved as the weeks have passed and become more of a journal, or diary, of my weekly gallivanting and pottering than anything else. Whilst there's been plenty of dull, often mundane stuff, with most of my weekends taking on a predictable, running, cycling, allotment, format, there's been the odd bit of excitement thrown in. No where near as much excitement as I'd like mind, and adventures have been somewhat curtailed this year by the old Coronavirus palaver and that never to be mentioned word (work) constantly getting in the way! Looking back there's been some highlights over the past year, a few that spring to mind are the Downslink Ultra Marathon. Running in the early morning heat in Singapore. The absolute peace and tranquility of being out on the bike during the early days of lockdown, when all the idiots in their penis extensions were off the roads. The odd night bivvying out, and sitting in the van with a cold beer, watching the sun go down after a good day out to name but a few. There's been some hard days too. Being out in the cold and rain in the winters often not much fun. There was a day back in January where I really thought I was doomed. My hands were so cold that when I got back home after a long run I couldn't get my key in the door. After a few minutes of trying and getting more and more frustrated with my inability to complete such a simple task, I really started wondering what I was going to do. Surely there's got to be a better end than hypothermia on your own doorstep? There's been lots of days where it's been hard to find the motivation to get out there too. Coronavirus has stopped all the organised fun, there's no running or Audax events to look forward to, or give you something to aim towards. My "Marathon a Month" efforts have helped to a degree, but even keeping that going has been hard work sometimes. 26 miles is a long way when your on your own, as is 200Km on the bike with no cafe stops to look forward too, or fellow idiots to talk too. We're getting there though, and now the summers pretty much over there's my favorite season to look forward too. Autumn always holds a special place in my heart. I don't know why, the springs brilliant, with all the new life and the world waking up after the long winter. The summer's always a bit of a wash out and a let down and by now everything looks a bit strangely and brown. The winters just cold and wet with nothing much to look forward too except sitting by the fire and getting out in the mud for a bit of cross country. But the autumn's got all those beautiful colours on the trees, there's still plenty of days when the sun shines, but they all start with a heavy dew and the mist hanging heavy on the fields and rivers. There's the promise of the first frosts, the allotment will still be going strong with the end of the summer veg and the start of the winter greens. There's Sloes to pick for Sloe Gin, there's conkers to prize lovingly from their shells to feel their shiny smoothness and there's mushrooms poking their heads through the dew soaked grass on the verges. Yep, the Autumn's the one for me! More importantly, what have I been up to this weekend? Well, being a bank holiday, obviously the weathers not been much to write home about and after a week of howling wind and torrential rain storms, Saturday didn't look too promising either. My initial plan for the weekend had been to get away on the bike, but that idea didn't look so appealing considering the weather, so Saturday started with a cheeky little 13 mile jaunt around the roads at home and then progressed onto a bit of shed door painting, followed by a couple of hours on the allotment. I thought that I'd better get the potatoes out of the ground on the allotment before it gets too wet, and to be honest I wish I hadn't bothered. I'm guessing that it's just been too wet, then far too dry, as we would have been better off just keeping the seed potatoes and eating them. What few tubers I have harvested are small and if we were relying on these to see us through the winter we would be in trouble. Luckily for me (although not for "The Emma") the Parsnips look like they are doing a lot better, so I'll be fine and the fussy one will just have to go hungry! Sunday, things were looking a lot better, although with the wind blowing strongly from the North the temperature had taken a decided turn for the worse. Nothing an extra layer and pair of gloves can't cope with though (long gloves and 3 layers in August, what's that all about?). Although nothing, worth writing about, it's another 75 miles to go towards the years total and it was nice to be out, as it always is, the sun even managed to break through the clouds towards the end. As I mentioned earlier the Autumn is definitely just around the corner and the Horse Chestnut trees have already turned brown and started loosing their leaves, the majority of the cereal crops have been harvested, and not wanting to hang around most of the fields have been harrowed and resown ready for the next crop. It's lovely to watch the changing of the seasons from the saddle of your bike as you pass through and there's always so much to look at and admire if you take the time to look around. It certainly doesn't seem like 12 months have passed since we were at this stage last year. I guess that's part of getting old. The time goes too quickly and there's not enough of it, what was it Confucius said "You've only got 2 lives and the second doesn't start until the first finishes"? A night in the van Sunday night set things up nicely for a bit of early morning running on Bank Holiday Monday. Nothing too serious, just a gentle planned 18 miles from Alresford up towards home and then back to pick up the van again. I say a planned 18 miles as I ended up doing a bit more due to being clever and thinking I knew where I was going. All I've got to do is follow the line on the GPS. How hard can it be? Very it would seem, when you think you know where your going and aren't paying attention. Not to worry though, my little diversion only added another 2 uphill miles. Free Phys as they say! One last thing before I wrap up for this week. Last year we had a bumper Plum harvest from the front garden orchard (or "Pauls apple sticks" as "The Emma" insists on calling it). Interestingly, this year they were no where near as prolific and the Plum harvest finished last week with the wind destroying the last of the crops. Last year though there were far to many to eat, and if we look back though the mists of time, we'll find my first ever blog post centered on turning the excess harvest into Plum Gin. Well, it's been sat in the back of the cupboard for a year now, slowly doing it's stuff and this seems like as good an opportunity as any to get it out again and give it a try. Filtered through some muslin and decanted into a couple of bottles, we're left with some amazingly tasty, gin soaked Plums, they'll not go to waste, either being snaffled whenever I think about them or added to cakes and puddings over the winter. But, the main event? We'll you'll just have to make some yourself and find out, because your not having any of mine!
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Ahhh, that's more like it, normal service appears to have been resumed and after last weeks heat wave, things seemed to have returned to normal. I've had a few days off this week, obviously perfectly timed as usual, for a few days of strong winds and constant rain, you couldn't make it up could you! Not to be downhearted though I've still managed to get out and about a fair bit, starting on Wednesday (my first day off) which coincidentally coincided with rain from 08:00 until 18:30! My original plan had been to spend a couple of hours on the allotment getting the new roof on the shed, followed by that most hated of jobs, putting a coat of paint onto the newly prepared workshop doors. I even got as far as the allotment, before I thought "sod this for a game of soldiers" and valiantly retreated back to the safety of home for some lunch. With no end to the rain in sight and going slightly stir crazy I eventually thought "Sod It", got my waterproofs on and headed out for a few hours of walking in the rain. I ended up sloshing my way around a very wet 10 miles, following one of my local off road running routes and whilst I'm not going to pretend that it was the best day out I've ever had, there is something quite satisfying in taking on the weather and winning! The forecast for Thursday looked a lot brighter, so I had the alarm set nice and early, with the plan being to get a few bike miles in (with a plan B and C up my sleeve just in case). The forecasters were spot on though and the morning dawned fine and bright, ideal cycling weather, with a promise of plenty of sunshine, nice temperatures and a fun day out on the cards. Out of the house for 07:30, I headed up towards Newbury, before turning West towards Hungerford, Marlborough and Calne, then dropping down towards Devises and heading for home via Pewsey and Whitchurch. It's not a bad little run this with plenty of varied terrain, including a couple of big ascents in the early stages and a nice flat run in to the finish, just when you need it. The roads are nice and quiet with most of the traffic using the major routes through the area and there's plenty to look at to keep your mind occupied. With 112 miles under my belt, my tan topped up and a few more calories burned off, I was back home by late afternoon, leaving plenty of time for a spot of tea (and a couple of beers) with "The Emma" having made the most of what was forecast to be the best day of the bunch. Things weren't looking quite so clever Friday morning, with a strong wind already blowing and forecast to get worse as the day progressed. Unsure of what to do with the day I thought I'd start things off with a bit of a run, that way no matter what happened later, at least I would have achieved something! I much prefer running in the morning, although it's not very often that I get the chance during the week, so you have to make the most of these opportunities. An hours running set me up nicely for a morning on the allotment and I've finally managed to get the shed re-roofed and watertight. It feels a lot more rigid now that it's sat on a proper base and adding some triangulation to the new roof's helped things along. With any luck it will last a few more years, or at least long enough to repay the expenditure in roofing felt and a few bits of timber, £50 is still a lot better than the £200+ to replace it though so I'm more than happy with that. I just need to add some new door hinges and a hasp and job done. Oh and sort out all the stuff that's in the shed and now in a big heap on the floor. There's no rush now as at least it's dry and hopefully not going to blow away! With the wind from the South West and growing in intensity as the day progressed I was in two minds what to do with the afternoon. Whilst it was blowing a gale and pretty humid it was still warm and dry (ish). Eventually my adventurous side won out and I packed up the bike for a cheeky overnight jaunt. Out of the house by 16:00 I pushed down towards Salisbury plain in a roundabout direction, fighting the wind for a fair portion of the time, but taking my time and enjoying being out and about. This is another good little route and one I've used plenty of times before. There's not only plenty of good Bivvy spots, but you pass through quite a few little towns too, which are always handy for a resupply of biscuits or a spot of tea. Not trusting the weather, I elected to stop fairly early to give myself plenty of time to get the Hammock and Tarp well set up and pegged down and was in bed, being gently rocked to sleep by the howling gale that was ripping through the trees before 22:00. The wind woke me a couple of times in the night, as did the rain lashing against the Tarp at some point in the dark. I however stayed dry and quite enjoyed laying listening too it, as it tried unsuccessfully to spoil my fun. By the time I woke up the wind had died right away and the sun was just making an appearance over the horizon, with the promise of another nice day. A quick cup of tea, stow the gear away and I was on the road again for 06:30, pushing down through Amesbury and on towards Salisbury and the promise of breakfast once I got to the other side. It makes sense to try and get Salisbury out of the way whilst the roads are still quiet as it's a bit of a traffic black-spot. If you can be through and out the other side before all the idiots get up and the roads become gridlocked then that's worth delaying breakfast for as far as I'm concerned. Salisbury, safely negotiated I knocked out a few more miles, before finding a secluded little spot to settle down for a brew and a somewhat delayed breakfast. Sitting in the early morning sunshine, having worked up an appetite, instant porridge and a couple of Scotch pancakes never tasted better. Breakfast over and done with it was back onto more familiar roads for the last few miles, heading for home via the river Test, Stockbridge and one last slog of a climb out of Whitchurch. Considering I was in two minds over going out due to the strong winds, I'm certainly glad that I did as it was a great little overnight adventure, made even better by the fact I stayed warm and dry. I really should get the Bivvy stuff out more often as it's always great fun, provided it's not raining of course! After an afternoon at home catching up on the odd jobs, I took the van up to Kingsclere for the evening, ready for a few miles of easy running in the morning. It's a far more relaxed start to the day, when all you've got to do is get out of bed, put your running shoes on and set off, plus it's always nice to sit by the side of the van and watch the sun go down. A far better use of an evening than sitting staring at the TV in my opinion, but that's another discussion altogether.. There's not a great deal to say about Sunday. Following the now familiar trend, it rained heavily overnight and was blowing a hooley in the morning.
Despite the poor conditions and somewhat tired legs I managed a steady 12 miles along familiar tracks and trails, enjoying the early morning peace and quiet and was back home in plenty of time for lunch and an afternoon stroll along the Canal with "The Emma". Not a bad few days off then and if the truth be told I could do with a couple of days back in work to let my legs recover! Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, as they say in Star Wars. Or more accurately in this case, way back in 2007 or 8, when “The Emma” and I were first living together, I expanded my home brewed beer empire with a few forays into the uncharted realms of wine making. At the time we were working with another amateur wine maker, which provided the opportunity for a bit of shared knowledge and wine swapping, some of which was OK, some of which was great and some of which was down right terrible. Now, the problem with wine making, unlike Beer, is that you need to let it mature for the flavours to fully develop, which is great if you’ve got a chateaux with a massive wine cellar, but not so helpful when you live in a small flat and your thirsty now, not in 10 years time! This small problem, and a general lack of impatience on our part, meant that most of my creations were drunk far too young, (straight from the Demijohn on many occasions), and whilst they tended to do the job and result in much falling over, had a tendency to be a bit rough! Moving on 13 years and we've moved house 3 times, I’ve taken up running and cycling, got 13 years older (although not wiser) and pretty much come to the conclusion that getting smashed isn’t for me any more. The result of which, is my now much larger collection of home brew has been sat in the much enlarged wine cellar (A.K.A the old coal shed) slowly doing it’s thing and maturing away (bar the odd explosion) for quite some time. What’s all this got to do with now though I hear you ask? Well, whilst I was out in the wine cellar the other day looking for some jam jars, my eye’s fell upon this little bottle. Ahhh, Ancient Orange Mead, a fine recipe using, honey, oranges and if I remember correctly cloves. Allegedly a fast maturing mead, ready to drink in months, no need to wait years for it to mature, ready to go from the off. Dusting the little bottle off I was instantly transported back to 2008 and sitting in the flat on a snowy winters morning having just struggled to get home in the snow after a night shift, cracking a bottle as a pre bed daycap with the love of my life. I'll hasten to add that at the time we were both working shifts and had managed to wangle our way onto the same shift, so don't fear “The Emma” wasn't having “beers for breakfast”, although it wouldn't have been the first time if she was! The abiding memory, apart from still being up well after we should have been in bed and watching the snow gently falling through the lounge window, was the taste of TCP and having to get back up a couple of hours later to go to work again with a banging head (happy days). Fast maturing my arse, it was as rough as a badgers backside! I gently carried my new found creation back into the house to show the now grey haired Emma my dusty find. “Remember this” I inquired, watching as she too was transported back to that snowy morning (I could tell from the shudder and grimace as she recalled the TCP taste). “I’ve spent 12 years trying to forget came the reply”. “Shall we” I inquired? Cork gently removed and using the well known giving it a sniff method, check out the nose. H’mmm doesn’t smell like I remember. Carefully decant it into a top of the range wine decanter saved specially for the job to avoid disturbing 12 years of sediment (Pyrex measuring jug) and let’s see what we’ve got. Well it looks OK and smells OK, but dare we taste it? In for a penny, in for a pound, using the chemical unmasking drill, I’ll go first whilst you watch my eyeballs to make sure I’m not going to die. Quick taste, “Right watch my eyeballs, if they fall out and I die, remember that I want to be stuffed, not buried or cremated”. “Stone the crows, that’s all right that is”! Gone is the TCP taste, all that remains is the gentle hint of cloves and oranges with an underlying honey flavour. It just goes to show that good thing’s do come to those that wait. Although even I must admit that 12 years is a bit extreme. There's at least another dozen bottles of the stuff out there, so maybe the idea of a Chateaux with a fine, well matured wine cellar's not so far fetched after all. Although it's going to require some hard core drinking before I can convince anyone that our 2 bed end of terrace in Basingstoke is a Chateaux, wine cellar or not. You will be pleased to know that I've also unearthed some home made Strawberry Jam from 2013 and some Chutney from around the same time. I'm just plucking up the courage to give those a try, so if I'm not around next week you know why! There's not a great deal else to report this week, I spent most of Saturday stripping loose paint off the workshop doors and repairing the weather beaten and rotten bits ready for repainting before the winter returns. In my haste to get on with the job I forgot to get any photos, so you will just have to take my word that the end results will be an improvement. I did manage a night in the van Saturday night, followed by an easy 13 miles along the South Downs Way Sunday morning. I was going down that way anyway for lunch with the “Old Cheese” and the girls, so it seemed a shame to waste the opportunity of an early morning run. Starting from my overnight spot in Steyning it's a steep climb up towards Chanctonbury Ring to pick up the South Downs Way, followed by an equally steep descent down to cross the A24 and then back up the other side again, before turning around to do it all again the other way. Not the most exciting of running and the normally excellent views from the tops were somewhat obscured by mist and haze. Due to the steepness of the climbs and descents it's a decent workout though, and with the temperature up above the 20 degree mark at 08:00 and some stupid levels of humidity it was certainly hard going at times. A little over 2 hours for 13.5 miles is pretty slow going, even for off road on hilly terrain. But in my defence, I think I should probably have had a few more recovery days after last weeks efforts as my legs are still feeling a bit tender and I'm a bit down on the energy front. Well, when I say a few more recovery days, any would have been a good idea, as I was back running again Monday evening and managed 21 Miles during the week in the heat and humidity. I'm not going to learn though, so there's no point saying it, and if nothing else I worked up a decent appetite ready for lunch with the folks! Maybe of interest I spotted these when I was out running on Sunday. They are the target holders on what was the old Rifle Range at Steyning. The sign says that the range as it stands dates from the second world war era. The bit that caught my eye though, was that the target holders are identical to the ones still in use today, which I guess just goes to prove the old saying that they made them to last! More importantly, the little info plaque on the range (See below) gave me something to think about whilst I was plodding along. It's not the best picture, so the writings a bit hard to read, but the bit that got me thinking was; "Without warning a shell from the nearby artillery range whistled over the hill ..... Gilbert recalls how the men who had lived through world war one instinctively dived to ground but Lt Greenwood, despite fighting through the same war oddly remained standing ..... Lt Greenwood took the force of the blast sustaining serious injuries but in doing so protected the 17 year old Gilbert"
Lt Greenwood was without doubt a fine man, willing to risk his own life in service of his county. Not only serving through the horrors of the first world war, but instantly volunteering to do so again at the start of the second, in defence of his home land. Why did he remain standing on that fateful day though? Was it to protect the young Gilbert, or was it that he was so traunatised by the horrors of the first world war that the sound of the incoming shell fire caused him to freeze on the spot whilst those around him dived for cover. It's a sound that your never going to forget, and having been involved in the First World War he would have been well versed in the sound of incoming fire and would have known full well what was coming next. I know where my thoughts lay and I'll let you make up your own minds on that one. What I can say for certain though, is that whatever the result of that fateful day, he was without doubt a fine specimen of humanity, one willing to put service to his county and fellow man before self. Willing to volunteer to return to the horrors that he had narrowly escaped just over 20 years previously, despite knowing first hand what that would entail. Maybe something to think about next time the media are hoisting some overpaid footballer or celebrity nobody up as a hero. Lt Greenwood, wouldn't have seen himself as a hero, just someone doing his duty, but I'm sure that he and the rest of his generation that made the ultimate sacrifice, going about their lives quietly and without fanfare, were far more worthy of that epitaph than the majority of today's so called heroes! It would appear that the weather is broken, this is the second weekend on the trot that it's not been raining when I woke up on Saturday morning and that's not normal! I'm confused, unsure of what to do with myself and strangely dry. Whats going on? With the predicted forecast for Saturday being hot and humid I thought about spending the day laying on the beach or sat in a pub beer garden. Well OK, I thought about it and then remembered that there's a million better things to be doing and as I've got no ability what so ever to sit still and the boredom threshold of a thing that gets bored really easily, I decided I'd better do something else instead. What to do though? A bit of cycling would be OK in the sun, as would a bit of walking, or I could go and run my "Marathon a Month" effort. Let's see then, which is the most stupid idea? Ah, yes, "Marathon a Month" it is then. And where should this stupidity take me? Well the canals nice and flat and mostly shaded, that could be OK. The coast will have a nice breeze. Maybe I could go that way? Or no, because I'm an idiot let's go and have a go at the Punch Bowl Marathon route. I've now had 2 attempts at this and still not got to the start line. Yep, that will be ideal, it's inland, hilly and when it's not hilly crosses open, sandy heath-land. Ideal! Oh, and it's 30 Miles, so I get a bonus 4 miles on top of a normal marathon, even better! Not being a complete lunatic, I thought that I'd better get an early start and try to miss the worst of the heat, so had the alarm set nice and early and was up before the birds had the chance to start singing in the new day. A quick bit of breakfast and off for the short journey down to the start line. In an unusual touch of sense on my part I realised that the route actually came towards home from the original start point, so planned on picking it up at the furthest North point to save a bit of driving. Unusually for my planning, this worked a treat and I was parked up and ready to go by 07:30. With the van temperature gauge showing nearly 20°C and the sun breaking through the light cloud cover it looked like the forecast was correct and it was going to be a warm one. Having actually remembered to bring the GPS this time, it was a simple matter of following the line and as I set off Southwards from my start point, I quickly settled into a steady rhythm. Conscious of the rising temperature I was trying to keep the pace slow and steady, knowing full well that the day was going to get hotter and going out too fast early on was likely to cause big problems later on. Just how big those problems were going to be I had no idea, but as we will see later things didn't turn out quite as planned. It wasn't until I'd got a couple of miles in and paused to have a look into the River Wey that I got the full picture of how warm it actually was. The second I stopped the sweat started running down my face and dripping into the river below, not a good sign when it's only 08:00 and your already going about as slowly as you can! From the River Wey it's a long slow climb up to the Devils Punch Bowl itself, crossing through the outstandingly picturesque heath-land of Hankley Common on the way. Whilst it's a beautiful area, made even more so by it still being early and totally deserted, its not ideal for long distance running, as, like much of this area its very sandy. Personally I think that loose sand is about the worst thing in the world to run on. It looks so inviting, yet is just so energy sapping, a few hundred yards plowing through loose sand feels like miles of running on a firmer surface. 10 Miles in saw the high point of the Devils Punch Bowl and some glorious views back to where I had just come from, looking back you can clearly see the height gained and get an appreciation of the work it's taken to get up there. It's worth it for the view though and I paused for a moment to take it in. It's days like these that hopefully I will remember when I'm to old to do these stupid things anymore and it's always worth pausing to make sure the feelings and thoughts are lodged away into the depths of your memory to be pulled out again some time in the future. I can't stop for long though, there's still 20 miles to go! On around the top of the punch bowl and then drop off the other side to cross the notorious A3 and pick up the Greensand Way towards Wormley. Looking at the twists and turns on the GPS it's not surprising that I couldn't follow the Greensand Way when I tried a couple of weeks back. No such problems today though and It's through Wormley and back towards the A3 to cross back over again and into Thursley Common nature reserve. By Thursley Common I was 20 miles in and the heat was starting to really build. A quick stop for a sandwich (I'm not sure if sandwiches are supposed to feature in Marathons, but conventional is so last season, so I'm going with it) and push on. By the time I'd worked my way across the common and reached Elstead I was really starting to suffer. Whilst my legs felt fine, the heat was starting to get to me. Despite starting off with nearly 2 Litres of water I'd got through most of it and the sun was now burning down. Crossing the River Wey for a second time, I paused at the river edge and threw some of the cool, fast flowing water onto my face and head, absolute bliss, it really looked good enough to jump straight into. I can't afford wet feet today though so push on I must. Not long after Elstead as I worked through the 25 mile mark things started to go a bit wrong. I'd started getting a few twinges of Cramp in my calves, a sure sign of dehydration and the heat was really getting to me. I'd not long finished that last of my water, when somehow I missed a turning and got a bit lost. That's a bit weird, all I've got to do is follow the line on the GPS, how have I got off track? Not to worry, get back on track and carry on. By the time mile 27 came along I'd got off track a couple more times, and on the last occasion struggled to get back on the right route, finding it all a bit confusing and difficult. OK, stop and take stock of the situation me. What's going on? Why am I struggling and getting lost? I realised pretty quickly once I'd stopped that the heat was really starting to cause me some serious problems and I needed to do something about it! Confusion, Dehydration, Fatigue, Headache, all early indicators of heat stress and pretty good indicators that things aren't too far from going seriously wrong. Time to make a sensible decision then and stop, except I can't stop as I've still got to get back to the van! What I can do though is stop and cool down for a few minutes and then walk the last couple of miles, which should be a bit easier. There's nothing at stake except pride and there's nothing to be gained from continuing to run. It probably took 30 or 40 minutes to cover those last couple of miles at not much more than walking pace. I could have pushed on and maybe I'd have been fine but maybe not. I'm more than happy to say that I think I made a sensible decision and lived to fight another day. Despite knowing that it was going to be a hot day, setting off early to try and avoid the worst of the heat and running at, what is for me a slow, leisurely pace to try and stay cool, I still nearly messed this one up. I got back to the van in just under 5:30 having covered 30.5 miles. A distance I should be able to easily do in around an hour less without any real problems. Thankfully I was able to spot when things started to go wrong and do something about it, but it just goes to show how easily these things can come out to bite you and how careful we all need to be in the heat. Within 5 minutes of getting back to the van I'd downed a Litre of water and felt a lot more human, by the time I got home I'd probably had another 1/2 Litre and I would think that by the time I started to feel fully hydrated again I must have taken on at least 3 Litres of fluids. Knowing how the sweat was pouring off me in the early stages and the duration of my run in the temperature I can quite believe that I had lost that amount of fluids, and despite setting off with nearly 2 Litres with me, there is no way that I could have carried enough water to keep on top of that fluid loss. So, have I learned anything from my close shave? Of course I have, I've learned that this is a great route and one I'll definitely do again, but I might wait until it's a bit cooler. No, seriously and in all honesty I think that the important lesson is to take adequate precautions whatever the weather, whether that be stupidly hot or cold wet and windy and make sure your listening to your body. There are always warning signs when things start to go a bit wrong, take notice of those signs and most importantly act on them. If your body's saying stop, then stop or it's not going to be long before it goes really wrong. Sunday morning didn't look to promising when I got up, it was grey and dull first thing with the wind steadily increasing whilst I sat eating Breakfast and trying to summon up the enthusiasm to tackle the day. I considered getting my bike out and doing a few miles, but my legs felt a bit tired after yesterdays efforts, and did I really want to slog along into the wind just for the fun of it? Eventually I decided to wander up to the allotment and have a couple of hours pottering around and decide what to do from there. I managed a bit of weeding, pulled out the Sweet Peas and French beans that have finished and lightly dug over where they had been and cut back the Loganberries to leave space for the new growth which will bear next years fruit. By the time I'd got through that little lot and spent some time watering the sun had come out and it looked like it was going to be a nice day. Casting my eye around the plot I looked at the little shed and decided enough was enough, it was time to do something about the state of it. As a bit of back history the little shed was on the plot when I got it. It was missing half of one wall, was full of spiders and rubbish and looked pretty sorry for itself. So I could get it usable and have somewhere to hide the wheelbarrow and few tools that I leave up there, I fitted a bit of spare wood over the big hole, and bodged up the door, with the plan being to replace it ASAP. A couple of years later the roofing felt blew off so I fitted a bit of spare tarpaulin that I had laying around and got a new shed for all the good stuff to live in, relegating this one to seed tray and plant pot storage, the plan being to get a new one ASAP. Can you guess whats coming next? At the start of this year the Tarpaulin blew off and ever since the seed trays have been getting wet, the door won't shut and now 7 years since I first said it was going, the time had definitely come to replace it. So, I had a look on the internet of stuff and discovered 2 things 1) A new shed was going to be £200+ and 2) The quickest I could get a £200 shed was 8-10 weeks. As far as I'm concerned there's 2 problems there A) I'm not spending £200 on somewhere to keep my plant pots and B) in 10 weeks time I'll have lost interest and moved onto something else. Que, plan B: Fix the shed that's there and see if we can get another 7 years out of it. First things first then and a bit of brute force and ignorance to pull it away from the fence. Half the problem is it isn't sat flat and level, which considering that it's only made of rotten tissue paper isn't doing it any favours and getting it level will at least give me somewhere to start. So a quick bit of bad carpentry for beginners followed by slopping some of Paul's special wood preservative around should give us somewhere firm and flat to sit it on and at least give us a fighting chance. The next problems going to be getting the shed onto the plinth on my own. Not to worry though, good old Archimedes had the solution to this little problem. There's not many things that can't be solved by either the application of brute force or if that fails leverage! Handily there's a few bits of wood knocking around and a couple of poles left over from the net building project (I knew I'd not taken them home for a reason). With it now sat nice and level it's quite amazing the difference it's made. For the first time ever the door actually opens and closes and the whole thing feels a lot more solid.
Next step, slop on a coat of preservative and strip off all the really rotten bits, including the roof and that was about as far as I got for today. I'll grab a sheet of OSB next weekend and make a new roof which will give it a bit more rigidity and square things up a bit better. Then a couple more coats of magic mixture and we should be good for another couple of years and all for the cost of a box of screws, a bit of wood that was left over from building the other shed and a bit of roofing material. Even at the worst case that's £150 odd, I'm better off by! Now why didn't I just do that a few years ago and save myself a whole load of agro! I've had this picture sat on my laptop for a couple of weeks now, but for some reason it hasn't fitted into any of my other posts very well so it will just have to have a post for itself. Whilst that seems a bit gratuitous I think it's worth sharing and shows a view of the garden that I don't normally take any photos of, although looking out from this direction maybe I should!
Every now and then I seem to get lucky and this was one of those weekends. Starting with the few days of leave I randomly put in for a year ago, actually coinciding with some of the nicest weather so far. Keen as always to take advantage of a couple of days off, I had the van loaded and a full weekend of fun planned, starting with a cycling jaunt down to Swanage on Friday. I'd plotted a nice little route, starting from Awbridge just outside Romsey, heading down through the New Forest, Wimborne and Corfe Castle to Swanage before returning along the coast via Poole and Bournemouth. Which, if I didn't cheat and take the ferry across from Swanage to Poole, looked like a fair 200Km. Having had a quiet night tucked away in a car park in Awbridge (with the permission of Brian the Caretaker, who I found to be a jolly nice chap) I was up and on the road for 06:45 on what promised to be a scorcher of a day. I had a pretty good idea that it was going to be hot when I set off wearing just a T shirt. I'd normally have at least a couple of layers on and be feeling the cold at that time in the morning, so to be about as naked as one can be when riding a bike and not be feeling cold was pretty unusual! As is the norm at stupid O'Clock in the morning the roads were deserted and I made quick progress through the New Forest. I've said before that I'm not a massive fan of this area, thinking it's a bit overrated, but in the quiet of the morning with just the Ponies and wild cows for company, I wondered if I'd been a bit harsh in the past? By the time I'd got down to Wimborne the world was waking up and the traffic heading for the seaside steadily increased. Unfortunately, much as I try to stick to the little country lanes, occasionally you have to either cross the main roads, or join them for a short while, in order to get to your destination, and as I joined the A35 and A351 for short periods my speed was reduced to that of the car traffic. It's not very often you can say as a cyclist that the cars are holding you up. It's normally the other way round, with the drivers being mildly inconvenienced for 30 seconds whilst they overtake. In this instance though I was certainly glad be be out in the warm sunshine, with the breeze in my face and not stuck in a tin can crawling along whilst worrying about trying to find a parking space with all the other beach lovers (please remind me of that next week when I'm moaning about getting wet again). By the time I reached Corfe Castle at about 10:00 the main road was totally gridlocked with beach bound traffic, sitting slowly overheating in the sun. Luckily, or maybe not so, dependent on your way of thinking, my route took the narrow, yet stupidly hilly, back road option and as I gently sweated my way uphill the fleeting thought did cross my mind that maybe I was the idiot and maybe sitting in Traffic was the better option! Of course sitting in traffic is never the better option and despite the uphill struggle I was probably on my way home again before most of those people I'd passed had got there and found a parking space. Swanage itself was heaving and I didn't hang around, a quick photo of the sea to prove to "The Emma", disbelieving soul that she is, that I'd actually been there, refill the water bottles and off again. That's more than enough time at the beach for my liking. It was not long after leaving Swanage and about as far away from the Van or home that I could possibly be that good luck, or not as the case may be, occurred and the rear gear cable decided that being one length of cable wasn't as good as being two. How is that lucky I hear you ask? Well, I've religiously carried a spare cable and 2 multi-tools (one with a set of pliers on) along with a whole host of other useful but never used items around with me for the last few years. Every now and then I look at them and think "do I really need to lug that around with me? Whats the chances of needing to change a gear cable at the side of the road"? Well, that's the second one I've changed at the roadside now, the first being in the middle of nowhere on my way from Lands End to John O Groats. Granted I could just change them every now and then just in case, reducing the likelyhood of snapping. But I'm an engineer and I just know deep down, that never works! Either way, 20 minutes later, having utalised all my tools I was back on the road. No need to call for rescue, no need to struggle back home in just one gear and another disaster averted. I've even replaced the spare in my bag just in case and won't be thinking about loosing that bit a weight for a while longer! Coming back along the coast it was interesting to see the number of cruise ships laying unused at anchor out in The Solent. I suppose the Coronovirus palaver has effectively put a stop to cruising, like so many other things. But, seeing the millions of pounds worth of massive ships, sat bobbing around unused was a bit of a shocker and a site not normally seen on the South Coast. If nothing else it gave me something else to think about as I slogged along the coast road with all the other road users (certainly not my best bit of route planning I must admit, and a mistake I hopefully won't make again in a hurry). Once I was away from the coast it was just another couple of pleasant hours, plodding back up through the New Forest, enjoying the cool of the forest areas after the heat of the open coast roads and not having to worry quite so much about frustrated car drivers. A smidge over 10 hours for 128 miles, including replacing the gear cable, that's not a bad day out by my books and being back at the van in time for a bit of tea and a cold beer sat in the evening sun definitely made the early start worthwhile. Considering I was on the edge of the New Forest it seemed rude to not stay another night and have an early run on Saturday morning, although I must confess that my legs thought differently and it was a bit of a struggle to get going in the morning. Get going eventually I did though, and although hard going on tired legs I had a great couple of hours following little paths and tracks through the forest and heath for just under 10 miles, which was more than enough. Unfortunately, I needed to be in Bristol for work Monday morning, so putting part 2 of my weekend plan into operation I spent the first part of Saturday afternoon travelling up to Chepstow, which is no where near Bristol, but I'd got a cheeky little cycling route lined up for Sunday and it's closer to Bristol than home. Whilst hunting round for somewhere to hole up in the van I came across a sign for the Wye Valley Walk, well I say came across, what I actually mean was I unknowingly parked up right beside it. Always up for a bit of exploration I thought I'd wander down the marked way, which looked pretty unappetising, running between a school and some houses. Boy, I'm glad I did though, I'd not gone 100 yards when the path became a track running along the side of a steeply wooded gorge following the river Wye. In all I wandered along for 6 or 7 miles following the track up and down on it's meandering path, stopping to stare at the imposing vistas which occasionally appeared through the trees. A little bit of Googling shows that the Wye Valley path runs for 138 miles from its source near Aberystwyth, through Rhayader, Builth Wells, Monmouth, Ross-on-Wye and onward to Chepstow, all of which are lovely little places in their own right. 136 miles is a good week's walk if your backpacking, and looking at the route it takes in a bit more detail, this is definitely one to keep in mind to do as soon as the opportunity arises and if the rest of it is as picturesque as the Chepstow end it will be a real treat. As I mentioned earlier, the whole point in coming to Chepstow (if we ignore the work word) was for a bit of Cycling and Sundays planned route took me from Chepstow up to the North of Abergavenny to loop around the base of the Brecon Beacons before coming back down again. Always a glutton for punishment I knew this was going to be a hard day out from the start, the climb out of Chepstow is enough to make you think twice and that's the easy bit, up into the Brecon Beacons and the final climb back into Chepstow the work really begins. Another early start meant I had the long hard slog out of Chepstow all to myself, but also meant that I had the downhills to myself too and could just let the bike roll whilst keeping an eye out for potholes and wildlife. It's not very often that you don't have to worry about traffic coming behind (or in front of you) and I made full use of the opportunity, building up a good sweat on the uphills and feeling the still chill air quickly cooling my sweaty body on the fast downhills. Through Abergavenny before the motor bikers came out and onward up into the Brecon Beacons, with the sun still low in the sky and the dew still on the ground the hills looked magnificent and I soon forgot about the complaints from my tired legs as I took in the scenery opening out around me.
The Brecon Beacons are a beautiful part of the country and like many such areas, too steep to turn over to mechanised farming, they have retained their old world charm, with little farmhouses, sheep dogs out waiting for their masters to begin their days work and small isolated fields supporting a plethora of wildlife, these parts of the country deserve a special place in our hearts and history. As you can no doubt guess, I was in my element, totally absorbed in the scenery and having the time of my life. The 20 odd miles between Abergavenny and Crickhowell must rate as some of the most scenic cycling I've done, and I've rattled up a few miles over the years. OK the roads aren't the best and it's pretty hilly, so your going to need a good level of fitness and stamina to enjoy it, but, and it's a big but, it's days like that, that make all the days out in the rain and wind worthwhile! |
Paul PerrattOld enough to know better, young enough to still feel invincible, stupid enough to keep on trying the same thing again and again. Cyclist, Gardener, Runner, Hiker, Cook, Woodworker, Engineer, Jack of all trades and master of none, Anti social old git and all round miserable bugger. Archives
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